Free The Wind City by Summer Wigmore Page A

fine.
    On the other other hand, she had a crush on a girl who ate pigeons.
    …She could really use some air.
    “I, um,” Tony said. “I need to go look at the ocean a bit.”
    Hinewai frowned, cocking her head. That was so cu – that was totally not endearing in the slightest. “Is something the matter?”
    The matter was that the last thing Tony wanted was to go all stupid and love-struck right when she most needed to have her wits about her. She needed a job, she needed to be able to navigate this awesome scary new world, she needed – “I just,” she said. “Need to look at the ocean, okay?” She attempted a grin and bounced a bit. “Everything’s just kind of overwhelming! The sea’s really pretty, it calms me down.” It was home.
    “Even after turning into a ‘horrible sea monster’?” Hinewai said.
    “Oh. Right, yeah. That .” Tony stuck her hands deep in her pockets, curled them into fists, bit her lip. “I should start trying to deal with all of this, shouldn’t I.”
    “You should have done that a long while since,” Hinewai said flatly. “I blame your human upbringing; it’s plainly what made you so stupid.”
    Tony stared at her. “… I,” she said, and she left very quickly before she could do something stupid like burst into tears, or punch Hinewai in the face, or turn into a taniwha. Or all three of those things at once.
    The ocean. Yes.
    It had felt like home as soon as she saw it, the sea had; she’d grown up on an apricot orchard in Otago and they’d visited the lake often enough that she knew how much she loved water, the sparkle and glint of it, how smooth and weightless the world was when you swam. She’d never realised about the sea, though, until she’d visited Wellington for the first time and everything fell into place, every step she walked and breath she breathed had made her mind and heart sing out home home home .
    Just thinking about it made her calmer, usually, but she was still fighting off anger and shame, so instead she wondered about that. About how coming to Wellington had been so perfect, how everything had fitted together so well.
    Tony went and bought some gelato, then sat in the corner of the store to eat it. She rang her mother.
    She had to ring a couple of times; her mother tended to misplace the phone, even though it was a landline. She got through finally, though, and it was a relief just to hear the familiar voice on the other end. “Sweetheart! How are you?”
    “I’m gay,” Tony said, toying disconsolately with her spoon. “I’m like, at least sixty percent gay.”
    “Peach pit,” her mother said kindly, “I love and support you no matter what. Also, you’ve been in love with Wonder Woman since you were seven.”
    “No, shut up,” Tony said, half-laughing, “she was really classy, okay, I was young and impressionable – oh, uh, and the other thing. I’m also a taniwhaaaa?” She petered off on the last syllable.
    “Oh, finally,” her mother said.
    Tony’s gelato was melting. She scooped around the edge of the cup, capturing the drops. “Wow, you sound really unsurprised – it’s like you knew that or something,” she said, grinning a little.
    “Think of it this way! You have a secret identity. Like Wonder Woman, or Iron Man… ”
    “Muuuum,” Tony complained, “when will you stop with that – I will never be anything like Tony Stark!”
    “You’re very good with your business, though,” her mother said proudly. The conversation was comfortingly familiar, which was what her mum had intended, probably. It brought back memories of rainy days spent lying on the floor reading comics with her. They were nice memories, soft and familiar as well-worn pages.
    Tony grinned. “Which is just another way in which I’m absolutely nothing like Tony Stark,” she said. “Seriously though.”
    “In all seriousness, dearest, you should talk to your uncle. He knows more about this sort of thing. It comes from your father’s side of